


this is the ending we want

by thisfishflies



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-25
Updated: 2012-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-30 02:41:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisfishflies/pseuds/thisfishflies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this is the eulogy of a symbol.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is the ending we want

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a little different. The ship is only there in whispers and the plot is only there in insinuations.

I wash my hair every morning, to get the blood out. It never does but by now it is just more habit than anything. No one ever says anything, so they must be used to it to.  
Then I pick out my tie. Today it looks like it’s a blue tie day. But nothing so gaudy as the bright blue politicians want to appear as “thoughtful” on the campaign trail. Instead I grab the one with the little ticks of gold.  
It’s no longer safe for me to drive to work. Or it’s not secret enough. The explanation has always been a bit vague and I think it’s just another way to use up all the budget so there is no surplus as surpluses are what get an agency. Go under budget and then you will lose it. It’s better to go over. No matter the reason, a car is aways there to pick me up.

The ride is usually uneventful. The driver is just some junior who gets all the least glamorous jobs. Or someone that pissed Fury off. They hardly ever talk to me. Anyway, some quick pleasantries are all you need before you start getting unprofessional. We can’t have that.

Work is not as exciting as it used to be. The world seemed to be burning under us and cracking apart the first handful of years. And then- it just stopped. The threats were less threatening and the danger was teetering towards “minimal”. If not for humanitarian efforts and generally favorable PR I might have been without a job. For a while, anyway. I won’t be falsely modest. Most agencies would snatch me up in a heartbeat with my resume.

(Which isn’t a thing, by the way. People with my job don’t need resumes because if someone needed to know what I did, they knew it.)

But work is mostly paperwork and requisitions and reports. Which was much of the job before but without the heart-stopping moments of panic that seasoned every day. Every once in a while there is a trip to the firing range or to the practice room or, as is happens more often, to the infirmary. 

Everything is just- still. Not calm or quite, just not moving.

  


It’s perfectly pleasant. The only bad things that happen are on the news and who has time for that when there is filing to do. It’s fine.

  


In the morning, I wake up and wash the blood from my hair. It never comes out.

 

There is a crack in the wall. It’s a bit disturbing, but only on an existential level. Walls get cracks in them, but they don’t fall over. Usually. That wall did take many man hours to construct and to plan. It still has a crack in it.

Recently I’ve noticed that people go quieter when I am around. Never silent. Never. But quiet. The pause in their speech and jerk to a stop, but then continue softer. It’s not the fear of a superior, nor the respect given a more skillful person. It would be worrying but I’ve been assured it’s nothing to mind.

  


It’s September. But the month seems unrecognizable.

  


Nothing remarkable. I’m not sure why I still do, though.

  


Every time I see a flash or green my heat speeds up. It’s like the old days and is a call to action. Sometimes I’m not sure if I want to run towards green or away from it. Traffic lights are logical and straightforward. Don’t touch. Go. Just, go.

I take walks. I think about getting a dog. Something seems to be missing and a dog looks like the right shape to fill that hole. Maybe one of the dogs that looks like they are smiling and who tilt their heads when you talk to them. Images of dogs are everywhere and they are our best friend. At night, in the quiet, I could use a friend. Objectively even the smallest room is mostly empty. Filled with ninety degrees of nothing, with a chair or a shelf to mark the sides of the angle. A dog running through would be enough to disrupt this for a moment. A moment is all you need.

But there is no dog in the dark and so the geometry of the room makes me feel small and pushes me into a corner. The edges are heavy and weigh me down.

  


In the morning everything is the same. Today is another trip to the infirmary. The doctor smiles and we trade greetings and the small talk that is only appropriate with a doctor. I put on the paper gown but am at least allowed to keep my pants. I feel like today will be different and the doctor will say something new, but I know the probability of that.

The charts are a jargon in lines and numbers and I should trust what the doctor tells me. Thinking about it myself will just lead to circles.

Nothing new.

  


Fury was the one who recruited me, I remember. He told me about all the slogging in muddy trenches, enemies with firepower that was literally the power to control fire, and saving the world being a duty. But he never told me what came after.

  


I’m not sure I would want anyone to come after me. The idea of a successor is depressing in more ways than one.

  


The Initiative was bloody-minded from it’s inception. How else would it explain the team it assembled?

The name alone was depressing.

For something to be avenged, something must be destroyed.

It’s setting oneself up for disaster.

Barton agreed.

  


Trees falling in forests were never interesting. Will never be. But you still do need an observer. If no one has ever seen anything and it changes then nothing really happened.

  


Waking up I thought it was a blue tie day. I just laid in bed for a moment longer before getting up. My shower took a bit longer but I’m not sure why I lingered. 

The blue with the gold flecks was my best tie. So I grabbed that one.

The past few days have been quiet, so I expect a siren to go off as soon as I get in the building.

  


I’m not one of the firefighters. Even if the earth erupts into flames putting them out is not my objective. A few times it has happened but my purpose is to report and analyze. To quantify. 

Sometimes I’m not sure if I will do my duty or stick to my purpose.


End file.
